Hope dies last
by DarkPatronus97
Summary: Scorpius is autistic, Draco a widower and Harry's a child therapist. When the three meet, their lives change forever. It's time to forgive and forget and to get over past differences. Disclamair: I do not own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. I do not make money of this fanfiction
1. Chapter 1

**1.**

**Hey guys. Yep, I'm back with another story: idea just popped into my head, I had to write it down. I know I should be working on my other stories, but I couldn't help myself. I had to post this one. So, hope you like it and let me know what you think. **

Scorpius had always been considered a very quiet child. At the Wizarding primary school of Leavesden near Watford, the teachers had been most surprised to learn that their young student was in fact the son of the notorious former Death-Eater Draco Malfoy. Except for the physical appearance, it seemed that Scorpius had inherited none of his father's traits. He was not very talkative, didn't like to play with the other children and preferred to retreat in an empty classroom rather than to go run in the schoolyard during the ten o'clock break. Scorpius worried the school staff. He seemed to have problems with the most simplistic subjects at school. He rarely showed any sign of having magical blood in his veins, which is why most the teachers thought that Scorpius was a squib.

Every time a teacher tried to start a conversation with the young boy, they were met with an everlasting silence and a blank expression. It was as if Scorpius didn't hear them at all, just as if he was being surrounded by everything but not by the people who talked to him. When they tried to make him nod or shake his head, Scorpius wouldn't react and would avoid eye contact as much as possible. If anyone touched him in a comforting manner, Scorpius would flinch away and look at the other people with round and frightened eyes.

The boy worried the staff and one day, the headmistress decided to call Draco Malfoy for a personal meeting concerning his son Scorpius. It was when the boy's grandmother (for it was never his father who picked him up) came to school one afternoon that Mrs McClusky, the school's headmistress, confronted her in the schoolyard, asking to see the child's father.

"He's absent for the week, he's on a business trip. May I take a message for him?"

"Just make sure that as soon as he returns he comes to see me, I think we both need to have a long talk concerning our little Scorpius"

Mrs Malfoy was, in Mrs McClusky's eyes, a very beautiful and elegant lady. Her hair was always bound in a tight chignon and her clothes accentuated her thinness. Her face seemed constantly twisted with worry and her frail-looking shoulders surely had already carried more weight than a woman like her could handle. Mrs McClusky had never met Draco Malfoy in person, but she imagined him to be like his mother in this prospect: worried for his son just as much as Mrs McClusky herself, the staff and the grandmother were.

The headmistress had not been very confident concerning the coming of Draco Malfoy, but she decided not to let the stress overwhelm her and so she had waited. It had seemed almost like an eternity to wait when eventually, the week was nearing its end. It was on late Friday evening, when Mrs McClusky had lost all hope to see Draco Malfoy cross her doorstep that he appeared. Although the man was notorious for serving the Dark Lord before his death, Mrs McClusky smiled professionally at him, bidding him to sit down with a wave of her hand.

"Good evening Mr Malfoy, I was expecting you earlier. I hope your trip went well" she said, tried to lighten the tension that had settled between them two. Mr Malfoy nodded politely, taking a seat in front of the large wooden desk, passing a hand through his ruffled hair.

"My mother told me you wanted to see me because of my son. Is everything alright? Has Scorpius done something he shouldn't have?" Mrs McClusky tried to wave the matter away, acting as if the situation wasn't severe but her smile was considerably more tensed than usual. Mr Malfoy must have noticed her worries, for he frowned at her in worry.

"What happened?" he asked and Mrs McClusky thought his voice sounded incredibly calm. Waving her wand at the tea pot in the corner of the room, she looked at the man sitting in front of her. Her smile had faded and she now wore a grave expression. She knew now that if the father was worried about his son's behaviour, it meant that he knew something she and the staff did not.

"Mr Malfoy, we believe Scorpius to be a very polite and intelligent boy you should be reassured. The only thing the staff and myself find most unusual is his lack of social contacts and most of all, his difficulties to speak freely to teachers and students. You see, we have been asking ourselves for a long time if maybe… well it's not easy to…"

"I know what you're thinking" Mr Malfoy interrupted Mrs McClusky and the headmistress felt almost sad seeing the expression on the other man's face. "I know and I don't blame you for deducing this, but know that my son is a child like any other."

"I fear I do not know what you're talking about, sir" Mrs McClusky said, although she had a faint idea of what Mr Malfoy was about to tell her. She had already suspected this, but she had never dared talk about it to the other teachers. She feared that they would reject the poor child for this… unusual trait. They already didn't like having Scorpius in their class because of what happened with his father years ago. The headmistress didn't want to make the matters worse in telling them the terrible burden the poor child and parent had to bear. Mr Malfoy looked at her with sad eyes and at that precise moment, Mrs McClusky thought she had guessed right about the resemblance between him and Mrs Malfoy.

"My child is autistic, headmistress"

The news came as a shock to Mrs McClusky, as if someone had emptied a bucket of icy cold water over her. She hadn't dared believe in the prospect of young Scorpius to be autistic. Absent-mindedly, the headmistress waved her wand at the teapot in the corner of the room, which floated to her desk and poured some tea in a cup made of finest China. Mrs McClusky didn't know how to react and couldn't think of anything to say. She reckoned that 'I thought he was' was not the kind of answer Mr Malfoy would like hearing. Shakily, the elderly woman took a sip of her tea and swallowed it slowly, the silence of the room making her nervous. What was she to do now? She couldn't send Scorpius away; poor child wasn't to blame for his illness.

"This explains a lot"

"He's not a mean boy in fact he's a sweet child really. Please don't send him away you were the only school I could get him in. It's already hard enough for me to be labelled as a Death Eater I beg you, don't make my son pay the price for being different" There was no emotion in the other man's eyes and his voice was calm. Mrs McClusky couldn't help but admire the father, admiring his calm reaction and strength of will. He was ready to conceal a very important element about his son to get him into a good school. He cared for Scorpius that was a certainty.

"Mr Malfoy, do you realize how serious this is? Your child could have been a danger to his little friends"

"Friends" the other man said, an ironic smile on his lips and a bitter expression on his face as he snorted disdainfully, "what friends if I may ask, Mrs McClusky? Scorpius has no friends, who would like to befriend a… freak like they call him" The headmistress noticed that tears had welled up in the man's eyes at the mention of the word 'freak'. It must be horrible, especially for a parent, to hear his son being called a freak.

"Mr Malfoy, I won't send Scorpius away and I won't talk about this with the staff. They wouldn't react the way I would like them to and I don't blame them and I'm sure you don't either" Mr Malfoy shook his head, having regained his lost composure. Mrs McClusky took another sip of his tea without breaking eye contact.

"Your son is in good hands here. We have employed a new teacher who, according to his curriculum, has specialised in the education of children with mind diseases" Mr Malfoy flinched at the word and Mrs McClusky realized that it was certainly worse to admit that your own child had a grave handicap.

"How convenient, isn't it?" he said, his voice dripping with irony. Mrs McClusky smiled sadly at him.

"Indeed, you must have a lucky star shining over your head" She had concealed her own irony behind a smile, but Mr Malfoy wasn't stupid. His smirk was bitterer than before.

"Do you ever wonder if the stars shine out for you? I always do, but for me the answer is clear: I'm paying for the mistakes I made years ago. I just thought that God would be more lenient and spare my child this horrible life" This time, Mr Malfoy didn't even bother to hide his tears as he got up and shook hands with the headmistress. Her heart clenched in her chest seeing the young father in such distress. She smiled reassuringly at him before he left, closing the door behind him. Mrs McClusky sighed, sinking back into her leathered chair.

"Goodness me I wonder if people would react differently if they knew the truth about this man" Mrs McClusky knew the answer, but she didn't lose hope that one day, people would stop being narrow-minded and would be able to forgive Draco Malfoy for his past deeds. She hoped, for Scorpius' sake.

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"Scorpius" Narcissa called for the umpteenth time, trying to catch her grandson's attention once again. Seven-year-old Scorpius didn't react and avoided eye contact with his grandmother. He stared at the wall opposite him and Narcissa sighed desperately.

"Scorpius dear, eat your mashed potatoes" It took the child a long time to react, but when his attention was eventually drawn back to his plate, Scorpius attempted to grab his fork. Narcissa smiled at her grandson, though she knew he would never smile back or acknowledge her. Even with Scorpius being different, Narcissa didn't stop loving him and she knew that her own son felt the same.

"There's a good boy, isn't it?" she coaxed, fighting the urge to brush her hand through the platinum blonde hair. Narcissa wished her grandson could have had a normal life. She wished that Astoria had not died and left her son and husband to deal with this situation alone. Narcissa believed that a sibling would do Scorpius some good, although she knew this was impossible in the meantime. Although Astoria and Draco's marriage had been arranged, the two had gotten on well and had considered each other best friends. Astoria had done her duty: she had given Draco and heir, but unfortunately, her fate had been a tragic one. She died only weeks after Scorpius' birth, too weak to go on with her life. She had been too fragile to carry children and Draco blamed himself every day of his life for her death.

"I'm home, mother" her son's voice called from the hall. Narcissa didn't move from her seat, waiting for Draco in the kitchen. After Astoria's death, Draco had decided to move to Watford because it was a peaceful and well-located place. The neighbours were nice and never asked uncomfortable questions about Scorpius' behaviour, merely believing him to be an extremely shy child. The house Draco and Narcissa had bought was not huge, but it was large enough for three people to feel comfortable. It had three storeys, one of which served Narcissa as private quarters. The kitchen was on the ground floor, opposite a spacious living room. Scorpius and Draco's room were on the first floor, as well as the bathrooms and Draco's study. Behind the house there was a small garden Narcissa liked spending time in. Sometimes, she even chatted with her neighbour, a young student in archaeology which Narcissa thought could make a perfect daughter-in-law.

"Hello" Draco greeted her, placing a kiss on her temple. Narcissa never thought her son would be so affectionate to her, but yet she once again had to remind herself that Draco was nothing like Lucius. Smiling at Draco, Narcissa stood up and took out the plate of the microwave, putting it on the table in front of her son together with a glass of red wine. Draco, as was his habit, had taken place opposite Scorpius, fondly looking at him.

"Hi there, Scorpius son" Draco said and Narcissa almost wanted to shout at him for still hoping after so many years that Scorpius would react to his voice. Scorpius' autism was detected when the child was four. Healers had only reluctantly agreed to help him, not trusting Draco because of his past as a Death-Eater. It made Narcissa's stomach churn thinking about the cruelty of people when it came to Death-Eaters. It wasn't Scorpius' fault if he was autistic, he shouldn't pay for his father's mistakes. When would people learn to open their minds?

"He hasn't eaten much since your departure" Narcissa told Draco, who had silently begun eating his meal, "you know, I think he senses when you're absent. See, before you came back he wouldn't eat and now, he has almost finished his plate" Narcissa tried to lighten up Draco's mood, although she herself didn't believe a word she was saying. Scorpius didn't even seem to recognize Draco, yet to notice his absence.

"McClusky knows" Draco said suddenly. Narcissa wasn't surprised, but the tone her son had used worried her.

"What will she do about it?" Draco shrugged his shoulders, drinking some of his wine.

"She informed me that they had recently employed a children's therapist. They think he might be able to help Scorpius" Draco took another sip of his wine and slapped the empty glass violently on the table. Scorpius jumped at the sudden noise, looking at his father fearfully.

"Pain" his high pitched voice said. Narcissa looked reproachfully at her son while Draco looked at Scorpius in confusion.

"Pain… angry"

"Scorpius son, are you hurt? You're in pain?" Draco asked, his meal forgotten. He quickly got up and went to kneel next to Scorpius' seat, looking at the child worriedly.

"Pain…angry… pain" Scorpius kept muttering the same words over and over again, making Draco feel mad with despair. If only the bloody healers would be smart enough to help his son, instead of letting his situation worsen with each passing day.

"Son, talk to me, please! I'm here, it's me, Scorpius I'm your father, I will never hurt you, please talk to me, please" Draco begged. He so badly wanted to hug Scorpius, to tell him all would be well, but he knew just how badly his son reacted to other people's touches. Frustrated, Draco excited the room, kicking the door shut violently and left Narcissa in the kitchen with the still muttering Scorpius.

"Pain… pain… help!"

Narcissa didn't know if her grandson was hurt or if he was talking of something else, but she couldn't help him. She would have to wait until the child had calmed down, for there was no way she would find out where Scorpius was hurt. He wouldn't speak, especially not to her. The only person he spoke to was Draco and even then, on rare occasions. Narcissa understood her son's reaction though; she too felt tired and hopeless. Clearing the dishes away, she looked up at the ceiling, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

"If there's truly a God up there, please help my son and grandson. Hasn't Draco paid enough for his mistakes? Don't you think you have ruined his life enough? Or do you enjoy seeing your own people suffer?" Just as Narcissa had expected it, no one answered her.

**So, what do you think?**

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**2. **

**Wow, hey guys you can't imagine how much I appreciated your reviews. Just know that I am not familiar with autism, I mainly do researches on the Internet. However, if somebody is more informed than me, they can gladly share the extra information :). Enjoy the second chapter. **

Harry Potter was nothing like the skinny boy with knobbly knees he used to be. He had grown into a handsome man with blazing green eyes and shiny black hair. His muscles were more defined and firmer, certainly because of his weekly Quidditch practises with Ron and Ginny. He still loved the sport above anything else. All these things had not changed since Hogwarts and there was another thing that had not changed: Harry still bore the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, a constant reminder of who he was, of what he had done. Harry would have gladly gotten rid of this horrible sign completely, although he was already happy that his scar had begun to fade with the years.

Often, Harry would look back on his life and wonder, why he had become a child therapist. Probably because he had wished to help children with difficulties, for he thought that every child was special and talented in his own way. He also was against the exclusion of these children from society, for he perfectly knew what it meant to be treated like a no one. Harry had often been excluded at Primary School for being "different". He didn't want children to go through the same horrible experiences he had when he was young. Besides, someone had to do it and the candidates were rare, far too rare for Harry's liking. Therefor he had decided to help these children who were considered different, to give them advice and to try to make them feel loved and wanted. Sometimes, it was a really tough job. Children could be challenging, but parents were in most cases the ones who needed reassurance. It still pained Harry to know that some of his patients were not from this world anymore and that some parents loathed him and blamed him for their child's death. It was fine with Harry, though: he understood the parents' reactions.

Harry moved to Watford Junction several weeks ago. He had picked this small town, because of its facilities and tranquillity. London was only half an hour away, which was a plus to Harry. Also, his neighbours were the kindest people he had met in a long while. A small family, the Stewarts, consisting of a mother, a father and three beautiful children, lived next door. The children, of whom Harry had already forgotten the names, were always very polite and greeted him every time they saw him leave the house. His home was also not far away from the Wizarding Primary School he was going to work in for the next months.

Some weeks ago, Harry had gotten a letter telling him that he had been accepted for the job of teacher at Leavesden's Wizarding Primary School. Harry had, of course, been delighted but he couldn't help and feel a little bit disappointed. He had studied psychology and specialised in mental diseases in children. With his diploma, he could work in almost every school, but it was not enough to be a teacher. Harry wanted a challenge; he wanted to prove what he was worth. His job should fit his expectations, although this was a horribly egoistic thought to have.

But he was happy nonetheless to be able to work together with young wizards. It almost sent him back to Hogwarts, to times Harry enjoyed being reminded of. He often thought about Hogwarts, about the great castle, the village Hogsmeade, the scarlet red train and of course, the Quidditch pitch. It pained him to know that because of some filthy Death Eaters this beautiful place had been destroyed, burned to ashes. It was a hard thing to be reminded of, but it was part of Hogwarts and part of Harry's life. He couldn't allow himself to forget about the dark times, since they had helped him evolve into the man he was today.

When Harry apparated not far away from his new working place, the first thing he noticed were the shouting and laughter of young children. It instantly brought a smile to Harry's face, who had always loved listening to children laughing innocently, enjoying their youth as long as possible. Harry would have gladly done the same, but sadly he had been forced to grow up far too quickly. It was good to know that some children in the world grew up in a loving environment. Since the war's end, the Wizarding World had been at peace. It was perfect, at least for some people.

Harry walked through the great iron portal leading into the schoolyard crowed with young wizards. A weeping willow was in the centre of the yard, surrounded by numerous ceramic flowerpots that had been painted in blue, green and pink. It looked as if the children had painted the flowerpots themselves, which was certainly the case. Harry smiled again and spotted adults standing on the top stairs of the school's entrance, chatting merrily together. Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to look confident.

"Hello" he greeted friendly, smiling at the three women. One of them, a little plump woman with an untamed mass of grey hair growing on her head, smiled in the same fashion back at him.

"Good morning may I help you?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes purposefully. Harry cleared his throat and took a neatly folded paper out of his pocket, handing it to the woman.

"I am Harry Potter, the new teacher" he said, almost sighing in exasperation when the two younger women next to the first one started whispering among themselves. He hated being labelled as the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and he felt as though this job wouldn't meet his expectations at all.

"Oh yes, yes, welcome Mr Potter, we were waiting for you. I am Susie McClusky, the school's headmistress" the woman said, shaking hands with Harry. Then, she looked back at the two whispering, "this is Margaret Holsters" she said pointing at a blonde woman with hazel eyes. Harry smiled slightly and Mrs McClusky pointed at the other woman, who forced a smile upon her lips. "This is Katherine Mason". Harry shook hands with both women, shared formal greetings but didn't acknowledge them further. He preferred to focus on Mrs McClusky, who would after all be his boss for the next few months or years if the future was kind to him.

"Mr Potter, I am pleased to see you. As you can see, this school is not a particularly big one, but it's still much work to look after all of those children. Please follow me I'll give you a little tour of the place" Harry, who was glad to escape the other women's inquisitive gazes, hurriedly followed Mrs McClusky inside. For a while, none of them spoke as they passed classes and diverse other rooms. Harry started to think that this guided tour was only an alibi. Eventually, they reached a large door and with a flick of her wand, Mrs McClusky's study door opened. Harry followed the headmistress inside the large room that strangely reminded him of Dolores Umbridge's study at Hogwarts, only less… pink. The door was being locked behind them and a silencing charm was cast. Harry looked suspiciously over at Mrs McClusky and instinctively played with the tip of his wand concealed in his pocket.

"There, now we can talk seriously. Mr Potter, you must wonder why I offered you this job. Don't try to deny it…" she said, interrupting Harry's protests, "I haven't underestimated your skills and there is a reason why I asked you to come" Mrs McClusky was looking intently at Harry, making him shift nervously from one foot to the other.

"Mr Potter, what was your first impression of the children in the schoolyard?" It was a strange question to ask, but Harry thought thoroughly before giving his answer to Mrs McClusky.

"They looked… happy and at ease. None was left behind or excluded from any games. And I… noticed the flowerpots. Did the children make them?" Harry asked, feeling curious and also trying to sound casual to hide his nervousness. Mrs McClusky smiled and nodded.

"Yes, the pupils of the second year made them. They are twenty-five children in this class, yet if you were to count the flowerpots, you would notice that there are only twenty-four" Harry lifted an eyebrow.

"And why is that?" he asked. Mrs McClusky waved her wand at the wooden cupboard behind Harry. The lowest drawer flew open and a thin file floated to Mrs McClusky's desk. Harry was, however, too far away to read what the white name tag said.

"These are the files of a particular pupil in our school who hasn't developed the same… should I say interests in various subjects the way the other children have. This pupil is different, unique in his own negative way" Harry's curiosity reached its peak and mingled with the sudden adrenaline rushing through his veins. A challenge, he wasn't here in vain. A child needed his help and he would do anything to help him… or her.

"I fear I do not get your meaning, Mrs McClusky"

"I thought you wouldn't. Mr Potter, this child is autistic" Harry was abashed and suddenly felt apprehension rise in him. He had never treated autistic children and had only vaguely been concerned with the subject. Of course, he could handle it but it was terribly difficult to help autistic children, especially when the child was already seven or eight years old.

"Wow, that's… that's…"

"I know. I reacted the same way when I learned about Scorpius. He's… always been a little bit distant and I've been developing my own theories, however I couldn't be sure. The reason I brought you here in my study is because I wish for this information to remain confidential. The staff must not know!"

"Why?" Mrs McClusky sighed and looked at Harry as though she was teaching a young child a lesson.

"Scorpius' father is not an appreciated man in the Wizarding World. I'm sure you've heard about Draco Malfoy" The name struck Harry brutally like a slap on the cheek. Draco Malfoy's son was… autistic? This couldn't be, it was impossible. Malfoy couldn't have an autistic child, it didn't make any sense. Harry's eyes were round in surprise and he felt his stomach turn being reminded of his arch-nemesis.

"Yeah,… I've heard about him. He's… he was on Voldemort's side during the war"

"Precisely" said Mrs McClusky matter-of-factly, pointing two large fingers at Harry, "precisely, Mr Potter, and this very reason has already lead some teachers into my study, asking me to send the child away. I couldn't do it, since Scorpius has never shown a sign of aggressiveness or insolence towards his little friends or towards the teachers. He can't be thrown out of this school; his father already told me that we were his last hope"

"So let me get this straight: you want me to help Scorpius feel at ease in his surroundings?" Harry asked. The headmistress shook her head and stared with emotion filled eyes at the young man standing in front of her.

"No, I'm asking you to find a way to make Scorpius embrace who he is. I have no experience with autistic children but I do sense a great pain and discomfort in this child and it hurts me to know that he is lonely. He's not facing autism on his own, but he doesn't realize how much his father and grandmother worry. Who knows what will become of him and of his magic if he doesn't learn to either live with his disease or heal"

Harry felt a pinch to his heart. Only moments earlier he had been thinking about the 'filthy Death Eaters' who had destroyed Hogwarts, destroyed part of his childhood. Now, some woman told him that he was to look after the child of a well-known Death Eater, a child who happened to be autistic. Harry didn't want to refuse, yet he wasn't sure what Malfoy's reaction might be. At that moment, when Mrs McClusky told him about the conversation she had had with Scorpius' father, Harry started wondering why fate had brought Draco Malfoy upon his path again.


	3. Chapter 3

**3. **

**Hi guys, I'm back. Great news, I'll be able to write more from next Wednesday on (my tests end on Tuesday). As soon as school's over, I'll feel already more motivated. Here's chapter three. I'm not sure if it's relevant information, but just in case: this chapter contains a few spoilers from DH. Enjoy guys!**

Mrs McClusky had introduced Harry to his new working colleagues. The two women, Katherine Mason and Margaret Holsters, whom Harry had already met, turned out to be even more annoying than he had believed them to be. He made a mental note to avoid these two gossipers as much as possible. However, Harry had met other teachers who had looked nicer. A young man aged twenty-five, had been the only one to welcome Harry warmly. Simon Sanders was a tall man, broad-shouldered and his hair was of a dark brown. His smile had startled Harry a little bit, he who was not used to being treated like a "normal" human being. He was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and he had been welcomed as thus, but not by Simon.

Whatever, Harry felt that Simon was a nice guy and therefor he made an effort to be as nice as he could to the other man. But he wasn't the reason for his coming. After introducing Harry to his colleagues, Mrs McClusky led the new member of her staff to the second year's class, the class Draco Malfoy's autistic child was attending. Harry felt excited about meeting Scorpius. Would the child look like Draco? How would he react to Harry's presence? He had never handled an autistic child before and he felt a little bit preoccupied. Mrs McClusky considered him up to the task, but Harry wasn't so sure. Eventually, the two stopped in front of a shut door and the headmistress turned around to look at Harry pointedly.

"Right Mr Potter, once we enter this classroom I'll introduce you to the children, but the reason of your employment should remain confidential. If the children knew about Scorpius' state, they wouldn't stop teasing him, please spare that child further distress" Harry nodded solemnly, his heart beating rhythmically in his chest. He felt as if his heart would burst out of his chest if it didn't stop beating so forcefully. He was being foolish; why would he feel nervous about meeting children? He knew the way children acted and why they acted the way they did, there was no reason to be nervous… or was there? It was certainly not because of Malfoy's son, was it? Mrs McClusky opened the door to the classroom and Harry managed to smile warmly. Inside the class stood Simon, the young teacher, looking curiously at the door. Upon seeing the headmistress, Simon looked back at the class and stood from his chair.

"Now, who remembers what we must do when the headmistress enters the class?" A small girl sitting in the front row lifted her hand so quickly Harry was startled. She strangely reminded him of Hermione, only with black hair and blue eyes. Simon smiled sweetly at her and allowed her to speak.

"We stand and greet the headmistress" Simon nodded appreciatively to the beaming girl.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" As soon as Simon had spoken these words, all the children in the class stood up and greeted their headmistress politely with a 'good morning Mrs McClusky'. Harry noticed two things: firstly, the children didn't even seem to mind him. Secondly, there was one child, sitting on his own at a double table, that hadn't stood up. Harry immediately knew him to be Scorpius, for the resemblance with Draco Malfoy was unmistakable. The same pale blonde hair, the same grey eyes and the same slightly pointed chin. There was one thing that was different, though: Scorpius didn't speak nor did he seem to notice what was happening around him.

"Scorpius, didn't you hear what we just said?" Simon asked suddenly, looking at the small blonde who was still sitting quietly at his table. The other children turned to look at Scorpius. Harry saw the child look up and stare at Mrs McClusky intently. Harry was puzzled, for he found himself unable to read Scorpius at all. There was no defiance or aggressiveness in the child's eyes. He merely seemed… uninterested or maybe disconnected from the outside world, which he probably was.

"Scorpius, can you hear me?" When Scorpius still didn't react, Mrs McClusky stepped in, sparing the small child further embarrassment.

"Please Simon, do not bother" she said, as if the matter was of no importance. She then turned back to the class and nodded to the children, allowing them to sit down.

"Good morning. As you certainly have already noticed, our school has welcomed a new teacher" Suddenly, all the eyes were glued on Harry and he had to concentrate as to not to shift from one foot to the other. To show one's discomfort to children was a most foolish thing to do. As soon as the children knew an adult's weakness, they used it to their own advantage and Harry wouldn't be able to work if the children didn't respect him. His eyes moved back to Scorpius, who was focused on staring at the wall in front of him. He looked so concentrated that it almost fascinated Harry. Scorpius' brow was furrowed in concentration as he stared at the wall. His mouth was moving slightly, a movement that might have gone unnoticed by some, but not by Harry. The man tried to figure out what the child was actually murmuring, but Mrs McClusky's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Mr Potter is our new teacher, though he's not a teacher like Mr Sanders" some of the children in the class looked curiously at Harry now. Most had certainly already heard the great story of the saviour Harry Potter, but it seemed that none was brave enough to inquire about his first name. Harry was just fine with that.

"You see, Mr Potter … teaches other things than what Mr Sanders teaches you. For example, he teaches some children how to feel… better in their surroundings" It was, as Harry noticed, terribly difficult for Mrs McClusky to explain to young children what the use of a therapist was. Children, especially so young, wouldn't understand much of it. Seven-year-olds shouldn't be bothered with therapists anyway. But some were not as lucky as others. Harry looked back at Scorpius. The child hadn't moved a bit.

"Anyway, since he's a new member of our school staff, I wanted to introduce him to you so that you may know him a little bit better. He's going to stay with us for the next few years, we all hope" The children looked stunned, not exactly understanding who Mr Potter was and why he was here. There was an awkward silence during which Harry avoided eye contact with every child, concentrating on Simon, who smiled at him encouragingly.

"Well, since Mr Potter has been introduced, maybe some of you have some questions they would like to ask him" It didn't surprise Harry to see the young black-haired girl in the first row raise her hand.

"Yes, Adelaide?" said Simon. The young girl looked at Harry as if studying him.

"I was just wondering… if… well if you…" Harry thought he knew what the girl wanted to asked, but she was suddenly interrupted by Mrs McClusky, who gave her a warning glance.

"Be careful, Adelaide" she said. The girl blushed and suddenly fell silent. All the other children were looking at her expectantly, curious to know what her question was. Harry decided that telling the children his true identity was better than to hide it from them and so, he said in a friendly and casual tone:

"Please… Adelaide, ask me whatever you want. I don't have anything to hide and you have the right to be curious" Adelaide looked up at Harry and then back at Mrs McClusky, who looked as flabbergasted as Simon.

"Well" she said, looking back at Harry, "I was just wondering if you were the famous Harry Potter" All the children started to whisper amongst themselves, but Harry had grown used to the whispers by now. His warm smile never fading (though it could not compete with Simon's), Harry nodded and suddenly, the class' attention was fully drawn on him, the children looking at him in amazement.

"You killed You-Know-Who"

"You saved the world"

"Is it true that you have super powers like Superman and Batman?"

"When I grow up, I want to be just like you"

There was such chaos in the classroom and it took a shrill cry from Mrs McClusky to calm the children. Harry looked back at Scorpius, fearing that the sudden excitement had troubled him and he was right. Scorpius was suddenly looking around fearfully, his eyes dangerously wet. Mrs McClusky's cry was not helping at all.

"NOW EVERYONE JUST CALM DOWN AT ONCE" Harry looked at her reproachfully, discreetly nodding his head in Scorpius' direction. Instantly, Mrs McClusky was silent and looked mortified. Luckily, the bell announcing the end of the class rang and as was usual, the children were allowed to leave the classroom for a minute, all very excited about what they had just learned. In less than five minutes, the whole school would know that Harry Potter was now member of the school staff. Harry hadn't been very smart on that point, but he'd rather have everyone know him than have everyone whisper behind his back. He had heard speculations and whispers all his life, he eventually wanted it to stop.

"Mr Potter" Mrs McClusky pulled at his shirt, seeking his attention. Harry looked at her and saw her look at Scorpius, then back at him. "Go and speak to him, it's now or never" Her piercing eyes bore holes in Harry's soul. She nodded formally and asked Simon to leave the room as well. The young teacher looked surprised, but didn't dare go against the headmistress' orders, so he followed her, smiling one last time at Harry. When the door to the classroom was being closed behind the two, Harry looked at Scorpius. _Great!_ He had made quite the impression on his first day, he had to admit. Maybe Hermione and Ron were right: he couldn't go anywhere without being the centre of attention. It was rather annoying, but he had also learned to live with it. Harry looked at Scorpius, who avoided looking at him. Taking a deep breath, the man walked to the child's desk and knelt next to him.

"Hello there, Scorpius" Harry did know some things about autistic children, for instance they hated being touched for most. He didn't dare put a hand on the child's shoulder in fear Scorpius would react in an unexpected manner. What he had to do was the catch the child's attention, but how in the world was he supposed to do that?

"So… how are you today?" It was a stupid thing to ask, but small-talk might actually help the child. There was a long silence and to Harry's surprise, Scorpius actually replied although his reply was an odd one.

"I didn't do it"

"What?"

"I didn't do it" Scorpius repeated. Harry wasn't sure what the child was talking about.

"What didn't you do, Scorpius?"

"I didn't do it"

Harry shook his head. The child didn't even seem to realize he was saying this to another person. He didn't make eye contact with Harry, instead staring at the wall.

"Does anything trouble you, Scorpius?"

"I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't do it" His tone of voice was rather unusual, for he ended this sentences as if asking a question. Harry noticed that the child began to feel agitated, so he stopped inquiring about the matter. The bell rang again, and the children walked back into the classroom and Scorpius became silent again.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OO

At one o'clock in the afternoon, it was time for the children to go home. Harry, as all the other teachers, was waiting outside until all the children had left with their parents. Harry had been introduced to almost every child at school and he was exhausted by the end of his first day. He looked all around the schoolyard for Draco, but he didn't find him. It was Narcissa who came to pick up Scorpius. Harry decided that it was better than nothing and walked to meet her. Just before she disapparated, Harry called her name.

"Mrs Malfoy? Mrs Malfoy!" Narcissa turned around and her eyes were round in surprise when she saw Harry facing her. She hadn't seen him since that time in the Forbidden Forest, where she had saved his life from Voldemort's wrath.

"Mr Potter, what a pleasant surprise to see you here. I didn't know you were teaching at this school"

"It's very recent, actually. I'm the child therapist of this school, but I prefer the word psychologist, although it doesn't actually describe my job" Narcissa nodded, keeping an eye on Scorpius who was looking at Harry curiously, still avoiding eye contact.

"Draco told me that the headmistress had employed a child therapist. I thank you for your concern, but we don't need your services"

"Oh I think you do" Harry answered as coolly as Narcissa had spoken to him. She lifted her chin haughtily, looking arrogantly at him.

"I think I know what my grandson needs and he doesn't need another psychologist. Besides, my son and I refuse to let some stranger try to tell us how to properly raise Scorpius. I again thank you for your kind services, but we don't need them" Harry boiled inside, cursing the legendary Malfoy haughtiness AND stubbornness.

"I am not a stranger in case you haven't noticed. Your son and I have known each other for a long time. I have saved your son's life quite often, Mrs Malfoy" Harry said firmly. Narcissa lifted Scorpius in her arms and Harry noticed that the child tried to push away but didn't wail or scream his disapproval.

"When I was alone in that classroom with your grandson, he told me something very strange, he…"

"He WHAT?" Narcissa cried out in surprise, "he… he spoke to you?"

"Well, yes…"

"That's impossible. Scorpius never speaks to strangers and usually only speaks to Draco and even that is rare" Harry was surprised by this sudden revelation and quickly tried to find a logical explanation to this.

"You know, Mrs Malfoy, I think Scorpius didn't even realize he was talking to me, he seemed lost in his own world and…"

"What did he say?" Narcissa asked, interrupting Harry again.

"I didn't do it" Harry quoted, looking into Narcissa's surprised eyes. She looked puzzled and without another word, she disapparated, leaving Harry alone in the schoolyard.

**Okay, so that was chapter three. I'm not particularly proud of my ending, but in all I think it was a great chapter. Hope you liked it also. **

**TBC…**


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